Held by a Thorn
by Marf
Summary: The Phantom of the Opera meets a lonely young woman. They both feel they are connected.


Chapter 1

Erik laid face down between two crates of French cloth. It was his second day onboard a small merchant ship. A week ago everything he had earned during his lifetime had been taken away. His love, his music, and his home had been either stolen or destroyed. His love, Christine had left him for a rich, young noble man. His music and his home had been devastated by the mob that had attacked him. The irate men had brutally beaten and had left him for dead. 

Why had he lived? Erik did not understand; he deserved to die, yet he had lived. He had crawled from what was left of his home, and from the Paris Opera House. He had managed to call a cab and pay him to drive as far away from Paris as he could. The Carriage stopped on a road just outside the city. He hadn't had much money. 

Five days passed. They were spent traveling to any place but Paris. He walked along the endless stretch of countryside. Occasionally, a fellow traveler would offer to give a ride. Gratefully he took the offers. 

As the days had passed and the road curved along the earth Erik had found himself at a little village with a shipping port. He then decided, why not leave France? There was no reason for him to stay. Nothing there held any meaning for him now. He only knew that he had to escape. 

Now Erik found himself laying in a rank smelling pool of saltwater in the belly of an old merchant ship. He was a stowaway and could do nothing but hide. His legs cramped from the position he was laying in, but he was too sick and weak to even move. It had been two days since he had anything to eat. His stomach growled in anguish, it longed to be filled. The boards around him creaked and groaned as the waves tossed the small wooden ship. Erik felt nausea overcome him. For now, he was grateful that his stomach was empty. There was nothing for him to vomit. That would just add to his misery. Erik rolled over on his back hoping that it would relieve some of the pain that he felt; It helped only a little. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and his body became weak. He sighed as he closed his eyes, he hoped, for the last time.

The pained groaning of the ship awakened Erik. The planks were bending to the force of the water outside. The Waves were tossing the ship much harder than they had before. From above him there was a loud roar that was from a mixture of high wind and crashing waves. Then he heard something else. Someone was speaking, but not in the rough ways of the sailors. It was a woman. 

Erik's heartbeat began to quicken, and he held his breath. The woman was speaking in English. Erik knew some words of English, but not enough to understand what she saying. She was speaking to another woman. He could make out a few words between them. The word "storm" was said frequently. One of them was crying; she was probably frightened. The women stopped talking and light footsteps came toward him. His hand immediately went to his mask. He felt the soft leather that covered the scarred and deformed right side of his face. He closed his eyes and silently begged the woman not to find him. The footsteps stopped at the crates. Opening his eyes, Erik saw that she held a lantern; it cast light all around her. She turned and saw him between the crates. Her eyes widened in horror and she screamed. 

It was all over now; he had been discovered. Like a trapped animal Erik backed farther between the crates. He hated being trapped. It reminded him of life with the gypsies. They had put him in a cage and had treated him with less dignity than a dog. He had been the outcast of the outcasts. 

At hearing the scream of her companion the other woman rushed to her. The other woman was taller than the girl that had discovered him was. She looked from him to the girl several times and took the lantern and placed it on a crate. She turned to her companion and spoke to her admonishingly. Then, turning to him she questioned him. 

"Are you ill sir?" 

He did not know a word that she said. "Erik." He answered hoping that she had asked for his name. The woman looked confused. 

"My name is Erik." He said slowly in French. Recognition brightened the woman's face. 

"Ah, you are French." She said in his native tongue. "I asked you earlier if you were ill. I am truly sorry about my maid. She is very excitable. This storm has put her nerves on end." 

"Please Mademoiselle," Erik begged weakly, "Leave me here. Don't tell anyone else that I am aboard. If I am found they might throw me overboard." 

"Don't be worried I won't tell anyone that you are on this ship, but I most certainly will not leave you here. You need medical attention. Come to my cabin; it is much more comfortable than down here. By the way, my name is Madame Clara deLivion." She held out her hand to him. He took it timidly; warmth flowed through him when their hands met. She took her hand back and spoke with great concern. 

"Your hands are like ice. You will catch your death in this cold. Have you the strength to stand?" 

Erik felt himself surrender to her words he didn't have the stamina to argue. "Yes, I believe that I can stand." With what strength he had he pushed himself up to his knees. His stiff joints ached as he moved them. Madame deLivion held her hands out to him and helped him to his feet. 

Erik was not surprised to find that he was over a head taller than Clara was. He had often found that he was much taller than those around him were. She, on the other hand, looked quite astonished by his height 

"If you need to," She whispered, "You can lean on me." He felt the sudden warmth of her hand on his shoulder. "No!" He hissed as he jerked away from her. She backed away from him. Erik covered the exposed side of his face. Why had he done that? 

"I'm sorry Monsieur. Did I touch a wound?" Yes, more than she would ever know. 

"No, Madame. It is just that you surprised me." He lied, "I don't need your help to walk." The ship did not sway as violently as it had before. 

"I think that the storm has lost its power. It will be safe to go back to my cabin. It is this way." She turned to the girl and spoke to her in English. Erik had almost forgotten about the maid. "Ann, will you please get the lantern?" The girl replied and curtsied. Two seconds later the lantern shown a path of light in front of them. Erik took two cautious steps, then with what energy he could muster followed the women.

Erik groaned and covered his eyes as he walked into the lady's room. Clara saw his action and whispered, "Oh, I terribly sorry. You have been in darkness for two days. I didn't think about the lights. Wait for just a second and I will turn them down." He heard the swish fabric as she walked away from him. 

Seconds later Erik flinched as he felt a hand tentatively touch his arm. "Mon-sewer?" He opened his eyes. It was the young maid that the other woman had called Ann. He glared at the young woman. She quickly backed away from him. She was a small mousy looking girl, just out of childhood. She apparently knew just about as much French as he knew of English. 

Looking in the room Erik saw that it was set up, he supposed, to the lady's taste. In one corner was a simple bed. On each wall hung a bright painting. There was a gilded mirror on the far-left wall. He supposed that a large piece of furniture on the right side of the room was her travel wardrobe. Where had Madame deLivion disappeared? "Monsieur, I beg your pardon." She called. "You may come in. I am in the back room." 

Erik staggered through the large cabin and to an open door that led to the smaller room. To his great surprise the woman had already made a place for him to sleep and laid out clothing and a dressing gown for him to wear. She was arranging a basin of water as he walked in. Turning around, she smiled kindly at him. 

"If you wish you may and change your clothing. These were my husband's." She said motioning to the men's night and dressing gowns. "You and he are about the same size. You are a bit taller, but you should be able to wear them." Erik just gaped at her. "If you need any help or anything else, all you need to do is tell me." 

A pang of hunger suddenly overcame him and he felt his knees grow too weak to hold his own weight. Madame deLivion gave a small cry and placed one arm around his waist and gently helped him to his makeshift bed. 

"Please Madame, I have not had food for two days. If you could…" 

"I can get you some food. I think the best thing for you to eat right now would be crackers and water." To him crackers and water sounded like a feast. 

"Ann, will you please go to the kitchen and get some crackers?" The maid looked at her with a confused look on her face. She had not understood a word her lady had said. Madame realized her mistake and corrected herself. The maid curtsied and hurried away. Erik looked at the woman. A mantilla of black lace covered her head and face. She was wearing a plain, but stylish black gown, the clothing of a widow. A tremor of shock went through his body when she removed the veil. She had ivory pale skin that in contrast to the black looked like porcelain. Her eyes were so dark blue that they appeared to be almost indigo. Her hair, that was pulled back loosely with strands curling around her face, was of the most pure shade of blonde that Erik had ever seen. 

The woman couldn't possibly be over 25 years old. She smiled "Now, let's get you all cleaned up." Erik felt a feeling of dread. She, a woman, was going to help him wash. He had never felt so pitiful in his entire life. 

"Please," He begged, "I can take care of myself." She shook her head and knelt beside him. 

"Monsieur, you can barely even lift your own arm. You need help." 

Erik closed his eyes as she removed his coat. He felt blood rush to his face, and felt the burn of shame. She noticed his embarrassment and stopped where she was. 

"If it will make you feel better, I don't mean anything personal by doing this. I just want to help you to get better. You see, I am a nurse, or I will be when I get back home." She began to unfasten his shirt. She gasped and he opened his eyes. Her eyes were filled with compassion. "What happened to you? How did you get these bruises?" 

"I was robbed." He partially lied to her. 

"You should have gone for help right away." She gently pulled the shirt from his shoulder. This revealed a long abrasion. "Oh my, you are lucky that this has not become infected yet. It looks like it is healing well." There was a sloshing sound as she dipped a cloth into the wash basin. 

Erik flinched as the cool cloth touched the wound. "I cleaned that wound three days ago." 

"How long has it been since you were attacked?" 

"About 5 days." 

"Monsieur, will you please sit up?" The cloth patted down his back. Erik felt a tears escape his left eye. In all of his years he had never been treated so kindly. The cloth moved to his other shoulder then down his chest. She stopped just above his waistband and moved up to his neck. She gently patted the exposed side of his face. He didn't breathe; perhaps she wouldn't think to remove the mask. She lightly fingered the mask. 

Erik grabbed her wrist. "No Madame! Please do not touch the mask!" She reached out toward it. 

"But I need to…" He clenched her small wrist more tightly. 

"Don't touch it!" He said harshly. Her face turned even paler than it already was. 

Her voice trembled. "I won't, just let me go." 

Erik released her slowly. "I am sorry Madame, but I can't let you see what is under that mask." A panicked look came to her face. She clutched her stomach. At that moment Ann opened the door; she looked scandalized by the scene before her. Relief spread over Clara's face. "I'll let you finish washing." She stood up, spun around, and staggered from the room. The maid had obviously assumed that he was trying to hurt her mistress. Even though she sat the food down calmly, her expression made it obvious that she would rather fling it in his face. Erik felt a twinge on guilt as he lifted a cracker to his lips. She had only been trying to help him, but at any cost, he couldn't let her see his face.

*** 

Clara collapsed on her bed. She breathed heavily to combat the nausea that threatened to overcome her. She had felt decent all day long until now. She heard the door of the other room close as Ann entered the room. 

"Madame, are you all right? That man hurt you didn't he. Oh Madame! You looked so frightened." 

"Ann, stay calm, no, he didn't hurt me. Just scared me a little that's all. I shouldn't have tried to touch that mask." 

"Why does he wear it?" 

" I suppose that he doesn't want anyone to see his face." Clara said with a shrug. "Will you please get me a glass of water?" 

Ann hurried out of the room and came back just as quickly. She put the glass to Clara's lips. The liquid cooled her throat and calmed her upset stomach. 

"You know what Ann? I think that the cook is going to get suspicious that we keep coming back for food." 

"He doesn't think that it is strange that I woman in your condition needs to eat." 

"Is it that noticeable?" Madame laughed. "This is only my third month." 

"Oh no Madame, it is just that he has 7 children. He said that he could tell as soon as you were on board. I was talki…" Ann realized what she had said, so did Clara. 

"You were talking with him. I suppose that you told him about my condition." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it just slipped right out of my mouth." 

"Don't worry Ann. I'm not angry with you. I probably would have done the same." Clara looked at herself in the mirror. " I am looking a little more round. I guess it is because I don't wear a corset. That awful contraption is so uncomfortable. If it hurts me, it must hurt the child and I don't want to do that. He or she is all I have left." 

Clara stood up, and Ann began to unlace her dress. "Madame," Ann asked, "Why did we leave your husbands family? We could have been comfortable there. They were wealthy." 

Clara pulled her nightgown over her head. "Yes we could have been comfortable, but not loved. I guess you can't really understand you aren't old enough. You just turned 15 right?" 

"Yes Madame." 

"Well, Simon's mother and father didn't care about me. They didn't want their son to marry me in the first place. They were polite to me while he was alive, but after his death they were very cold. I think that his mother blamed me for his death. After all, it _was_ my idea to go the Opera." Clara felt tears streaming down her face. She sat on her bed. "_I _chose where we were going to sit. It was _all_ my fault." 

Ann sat down beside her. "It wasn't your fault Madame. You couldn't have possibly known that there would be an accident." 

Clara felt Ann take her hair down and brush it and gently braid it again. She sighed. "What would I do without you Ann. If it weren't for you, I would go mad with grief." 

"You need to sleep now Madame. I don't want you to be too tired." Ann's gentle hands massaged her shoulders. 

"Ann, what do you think of that man? I think his name is Erik." Ann sighed. 

"I don't trust him. He seems dangerous." 

"I don't understand him at all, I think that he has suffered a lot." After crawling under her blankets Clara closed her eyes. "I don't know Ann, it is kind of strange, but I feel a connected to him somehow." 

*** 

Erik finished the crackers while he listened to the muffled chatter of the women. He reached up and removed his mask. The once pure white leather was now gray from soot, and mud. He touched the scars and deformities that the mask was hiding. If Madame deLivion had seen them she surely would have passed out. Again his thoughts brought him back to his days of freak shows. Did not the women and children scream in fright when they saw him? He had seen grown men pass out at the sight of him. It was his ugliness that had denied him most of life's beautiful pleasures. It caused him to be separated from all of mankind, and branded as unworthy to be given respect or love. 

Despite that fact, the woman in the next room had given him kindness and respect even when he had pushed her away. She stubbornly refused to be scared by words. "Perhaps…" Erik thought, again touching his hideousness. No, no one could really care for him. 

Erik changed into the clothing that she had laid out for him and pulled the blanket over himself. Although he didn't believe in fate, he felt that somehow he and Clara deLivion were connected. 

Chapter Two

At sunrise, Clara walked from the galley carrying a tray of food. Her eyes explored the environment, and her mind took in everything that she saw. The sun was peeking slyly over the horizon, casting rays that made the clouds in the sky a light shade of pink. The ocean was capped with orange reflections. The clean, white sails were filled with wind and planks were still glistening from their daily cleansing. Everything surrounding Clara was bright and shining, except for her. Her mourning gown announced that she was a widow to everyone around. The sailors, instead of giving her friendly smiles, gave her looks of pity. Her whole body ached because of her pregnancy, but her heart ached the most. "It is a beautiful morning Clara, and here you are like a droopy dog. You have got to quit moping. There is work to be done." She said harshly to herself." 

"Excuse me Madame?" Clara spun around. 

"Yes? Oh, Ann, what do you need?" 

Ann was wringing her shawl nervously. "That man is awake. He came out of his room and asked me something. I didn't really understand what he said. I told him that and he just glared at me. I didn't want to be alone in there with him. Something about that man frightens me. It is that mask he wears. No proper man should have to wear a mask. What if he is a criminal? You should tell the captain, he could take care of him. What if he got it in his mind to hurt you or me?" 

"You worry far too much Ann. Thank you for telling me that he is awake." Clara turned to go back to her cabin; Ann tugged on her sleeve. 

"You aren't going back to the cabin are you? What if he tries to hurt you?" 

"Stop worrying about me Ann, I really don't think that he is in condition to hurt me." Then she stopped. Last night his grip on her wrist had been strong enough to cause her pain. "On second thought, why don't you come with me?" 

*** 

Erik sat on a chair by the lady's bed, when she entered the room she smiled at him. "It is good to see that you are feeling better Monsieur. I brought you some food. 

Erik stood up; the lady's smile wavered, but only for a second. 

"I trust that you slept well." He had been plagued by nightmares; his sleep had been restless. 

"Yes, I slept well." He answered politely. "I was asleep until someone came into my room this morning." He glared at the maid, she backed away frightened. 

Madame deLivion straightened to her full height, which wasn't very tall and looked at him defensively. "You must forgive Ann; she is young, and sometimes doesn't realize what she is doing. She is only 15 please do try not to frighten her. She is already scared enough as it is!" 

Erik took the tray from her. He pulled his chair up to a table. Madame still stood. "I frighten your maid, do I frighten you?" Her face blanched. "No, monsieur, you do not frighten me." 

He put down his food and jumped to his feet. Ann screamed and ran from the room, but Clara held her position. "You do not scare me Monsieur. You are in no condition to hurt me." 

Erik took a step closer to her. "How do you know that? I recover quickly from illness. After all," he said as he stepped closer to her. "I am a strange man, and you are a woman and all alone. If I wanted to, I could hurt, or kill you right now." 

She looked up at him defiantly, "You wouldn't!" Erik backed away from her. 

"You are truly correct Madame. I wouldn't dream of hurting you now, but," touching his mask, "If I were provoked, I wouldn't think twice about hurting anyone." 

Suddenly Erik noticed a change in the woman's appearance. She lost some of her height and her eyes filled with panic. She began to sink to the ground. He quickly caught her, and she collapsed into him. 

Erik's heartbeat quickened. She pressed her face into his chest he could feel her breathing heavily. "I'm sorry." He whispered tenderly. "I didn't mean to make you faint." 

Clara looked up at him. "Please don't flatter yourself, it wasn't you. I think that I just need to stay here for a moment." Erik placed his hand on the woman's back. Suddenly, there was a shriek and a loud cold voice. A figure darkened the doorway. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!" 

***

Clara jumped and spun away from the man that supported her. She collapsed to the ground. Erik looked like a trapped animal. The man who had just been a calm support was a snarling beast. The sailors still stood in the doorway. One of them spoke gruffly. 

"Now you, if you come calmly, we won't have any problems." Another sailor that stood beside the man whispered into his ear. The gruff man's tone changed from careful to ruthless. "So you are a stowaway! The captain will not stand for this! Especially with the ladies on board. You come with me now!" 

Clara looked at Erik then at the sailor and addressed both of them. "Please don't do anything rash." She begged. The sailor took a step closer; Erik emitted a low growl stepped in front of her. 

"N- now you stay there!" The large sailor was starting to lose some of his determination." Erik lunged at him. Startled, the man backed away and Erik pushed past him and the men standing in the doorway. They turned around and began chasing him. 

"Wait! Please stop!" Clara cried. She struggled to push herself off of the ground. 

"Madame, are you alright? I'm glad that I got here in time." Ann helped her to her feet. "I told you that man was dangerous. He could have killed you, or even worse!" 

Marie felt shaky; Ann's reprimand didn't help. A mixture of anger and sickness was beginning to swell inside her. Tears overflowed her eyes. 

"Damn it Ann! You are so wrong! He wasn't going to hurt me, and he never was. Now, because of you, they are going to kill him!" 

"Oh, Madame!" Ann cried out against the accusation. 

For a moment, Marie sat on her bed; her entire body felt numb. Then, like a mechanical toy she stood and left her cabin. Her feet carried her to the deck. Erik was standing on the railing. The cloak that she had lent him was trailing in the wind. The sailors were closing in on him. She heard herself cry out to him. His eyes met hers just as he was brutally knocked off his feet. Marie screamed as she watched the tail of her husbands cloak disappear over the edge of the rail. Her scream was echoed by a sickening splash of a body hitting the water. The sailors were running toward her as everything went black. 

*** 

"Madame?" Clara was returning to consciousness. A deep male voice echoed in her ears. She heard water dripping into a basin and felt coldness on her forehead. She pushed it away. Coldness was too much like death. She had held her dead husband in her arms. He was so cold… so cold. The deep voice spoke again this time to another. "She is starting to come back to us. Madame, can you hear me?"

Clara opened her eyes, and her heart began to beat quickly. She saw the blurry outline of a large man. A woman stood beside him. "Madame?" The woman whispered. It was only Ann. 

"What happened Ann?" Panicked, she whispered. "They killed him didn't they? That poor man, he was only helping me." 

The doctor gently placed his hand over her lips. "Don't try to talk Madame. You have had some shock. You need to rest." A gentle hand stroked her face and the doctor crooned. "I don't know what kind of family you must have. They let you leave the safety of their home to travel in your condition. Already this voyage had been tiring to you and your child. I should have the Captain turn this ship around and take you home."

"No, no, you can't do that!" Clara struggled to sit up. "You see, I am going home. My family is in America that is where I will be loved." She relaxed into her pillow. "Did they kill that man, Doctor? Please tell me the truth."

"No they did not Madame." He replied "The men may be sailors, but they are not barbarians." 

"What happened then? I saw him jump into the water."

"The crew fished him out and subdued him. He is in the brig. You won't have to worry about him again. Now please get some rest my dear." 

Clara sighed and closed her eyes. "Yes doctor, I believe you are right. I just need to sleep. I only wish that my husband were here. He would make everything so much…better."

As she drifted back into sleep she heard the Doctor and Ann's muted voices. 

Doctor: What happened to her husband?

Ann: He was killed in a terrible accident…

__

Clara found herself standing in the doorway of a bright and warm room. The colors were rich violets and yellows. A large canopy bed with velvet draping faced the window that overlooked the countryside. This room belonged to her and Simon; it was their private suite at his home. 

It was so warm and comfortable standing in their room. "Do you really like it my love? I had it furnished especially for you." Simon stood behind her with his arms entwined around her waist. She felt his breath upon her neck. 

Clara heard herself answer in a whisper; "It is so beautiful. How could I not love it? But I love you much more." 

Simon spun her around and kissed her "I love you too my little Yankee. Now, for the tour of our room…" He showed every detail of the room with great pride and finally stopped in front of the bed. "…And this my love, is the bed. It is a place that I hope we will spend much of our time." He looked at her with a mischievous twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "Would you like to give it a try?" 

Clara couldn't help laughing. "Right now? We only got here an hour ago. Should we at least get cleaned up or something? Your parents are waiting for us downstairs. What will they think?"

Simon gently lifted her off of the ground and placed her on the bed. "Why do we need to worry? We have the rest of our life to worry about what other people will think of us. Besides, right now all that I can think about is how beautiful you are, and how badly I want you." 

He leaned over her and she rose to meet him. As their lips met a surge of happiness flowed through her body. The room was filled with brilliant light. "I love you so much Simon!" She whispered as his lips moved from hers. 

Suddenly the room became dark, and Clara heard Simon cry out in pain. His body disappeared from her arms and she was all alone. A black shadow passed through the room. She screamed with terror.


End file.
